All Hope Lost
by Kagirinai-Eternal
Summary: CHALLENGE-FIC. Loss is never an easy thing to deal with. And for some, it can seem impossible. But with the support of friends and the understanding of someone who's been there, the pain will slowly fade and wounds can heal. T for mentions of attempted suicide.
1. Introduction

**Title:** _All Hope Lost_

**Rating:** _T_

**Genre:** _Family/Hurt/Comfort/Friendship/Angst_

**Characters:** _Jack Frost, Bunnymund, Tooth, North, Sandy, Jamie & Sophie_

**Summary:** CHALLENGE-FIC. Loss is never an easy thing to deal with. And for some, it can seem impossible. But with the support of friends and the understanding of someone who's been there, the pain will slowly fade and wounds can heal.

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Welcome! This is my submission for _**Jackiechane100**_'s high school AU, angst-y feels RotG challenge. I would first like to clarify that this is not my typical genre, so forgive me if it makes your eyes catch fire and sends you shrieking into madness. Secondly, I am not familiar with the "typical" high school experience or environment, as I attended one with a student population of about 100 people, including 7th and 8th graders. So, naturally, I will probably set this story in a smaller town as well. Also, I don't know how many of you have read anything I've written before, but if you have, you may have noticed that time and I don't get along too well. This means that there will be some jumping around in this story. I will try to keep it to a minimum, but brace yourselves just in case.

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Now, I would like to point out some notes on how I am representing the characters. Obviously, they're all human. That's a given considering the guidelines of this challenge. I suppose the biggest difference would be the names of some of the Guardians. I have either tweaked them or supplied new ones to better fit the modern/real world story line. To avoid confusion, a roster of who's who is supplied below. I will have links to portraits of how I envision them up on my profile page…probably.

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_**Anna Toothey**__ – This is a play on "Toothiana". Read it as if it was on a high school roll sheet and it would be Toothey, Anna. This will be her "official" name, though she will frequently be referred to as Tooth anyway. _

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_**Easton Bunnell**__ – Aster just wasn't kicking it for me. It's a girl's name, flat out. So I tried to throw together a name that sounded similar to Easter. And Bunnell is the closest name to Bunnymund I could find in the phone book. _

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_**Jack Frost**__ – Jack Frost is Jack Frost, period. However, in address of his "invisible" status, he will often be called Jake, Jace, James, etc. So if a random "J" name pops up in the dialogue, you know who I'm talking about._

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_**Manuel de la Luna **__– This is M.i.M. He will be playing the part of Principal/Superintendent of the high school. It is a minor role, but I figured he deserved a place on the roster._

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_**Nicholas St. North**__ – Not changed, though you will never see me actually call him Nicholas. Nor will he be referred to as "North". The "St." is part of the surname; therefore, he will always be called either Nick or St. North. _

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_**Sandoval Manson**__ – With a name like "Sandoval" wouldn't you go by "Sandy" too, no matter how girly it was?_

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There will be no Pitch in this story and all other canon characters will retain their names, though I may tack on a surname to some of those that otherwise don't have one. Also, for reasons, in this story Jack is the _**younger**_ sibling. I suppose if that makes you wail "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" whilst ripping your hair out, you can still imagine him having a little sister, but that would create some logic gaps. I apologize in advance.

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Now, I apologize for this spiel, since I know that non-chapters aren't supposed to be posted like this. I just wanted to present this story as spiffily as I could. Fear not, there will be very few other peeps out of me until the end. Now, let us dim the lights while you enjoy the production featured herein.

_~Kagi_


	2. Prologue: Red

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"_Red_"

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Anna had never seen so much red before in her whole life; so much blood. A storm of chaos surged around her as paramedics and medical equipment brushed by, pouring through the door that stood between her and the horrible, horrible red. Nearby, sirens wailed, sharp against the muted murmurings of the crowd behind and around her. She heard it, she knew it was there, but she couldn't see it. She couldn't see a shaken Nick retching into a nearby garbage can. She couldn't see a group of sophomores trying to fan Sandy back to consciousness. She couldn't see the bright yellow tape gripped in her fingers, keeping the gawkers at bay so the EMT's could do their work. All she could see was the small blue door and the awful puddle of red hidden behind it.

"Clear the way!"

She flinched as the door swung open, revealing the sight for the briefest moment before it was blocked by the rattling wheels of a gurney. She heard the crowd part, but made no move of her own, rooted to her spot in shock and disbelief. "Easton…why?" Her voice was quiet, barely reaching her own ears as she watched them wheel her friend past her. He couldn't have heard her, even if he was awake. But he wasn't.

He looked asleep, but Anna knew better. She knew he was in some other blackness, seesawing on the brink and no amount of screaming would rouse him. She knew this, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try. "Easton!"

She moved then, not out of the way, but towards the gurney, latching onto the metal railing before the paramedics realized she was there. Her fingers clutched at the blanket that covered his torso, barely noting that it too was red, shielding bystanders from the horror it covered. "Easton…" Her head fell and she sank to her knees, still gripping both the blanket and the guard rail, weeping against the stilled gurney. "Please…" He looked so small, so faded, and so pale wrapped up in that hideous red fabric. There was no fight in Anna as she was gently pried away and passed into strong arms that she distantly recognized were Nick's. She barely heard the rehearsed promises that there was no need to worry; everything would be fine. All she could do was close her eyes and sob, letting blackness fall over her vision as her dearest friend was whisked to the hospital; letting it drown out the hated red.

Unnoticed, a pale figure slipped away from the shocked onlookers, moving in the direction opposite that of the ambulance. No one noticed the shredded tee shirt hanging out of the hoodie pocket. No one noticed the grim set of the thin mouth or the questioning in the shadow-circled eyes. And no one noticed as spindly fingers rubbed against dark denim, wiping away a smear of red.

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_**A/N: Please don't leave any reviews pointing out how often I've used the word red or suggesting synonyms for it. I am really quite competent with colors. The over-use and simple repetition of 'red' in this chapter is intentional. All other reviews are welcome and appreciated.**_


	3. Chapter One

Jack peered through the grimy window, eyeballing the building beyond with leery mistrust. "You sure this is the place?" he asked, tapping the cab driver on the shoulder. The hulking man just glared at him and Jack was fairly certain he was contemplating crushing his skull. The coming payment was probably the only thing stopping him. Sighing, the boy held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Take it easy, big guy. Not doubting your navigation; I was just expecting something…bigger."

He gathered up his tattered duffel and threadbare backpack, pushing open the door with his foot. "What do I owe ya?" The big man just rolled his cigar to the other side of his mouth and jabbed a thick finger at the meter. Jack rolled his eyes and dug into his pocket, handing over the last of his spending cash. "Keep the change," he muttered, barely clearing the door before the vehicle roared away, spitting gravel at him. Shielding his eyes, he turned to face the stretch of brick behind him. Tarnished, foot-high letters greeted him, proclaiming this particular building to be the Burgess High School main office. "Here goes nothin'," he told the wind as it sprinted past him, hoisting his duffel to his shoulder.

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He decided that the walls were pretty thick, because as small as the building looked from the outside, it was even smaller inside. The lobby, as it were, was scarcely wide enough for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder; three if they were as slight as he was; and a large portion of that space was claimed by an impressively stocked trophy case. Opposite that, a wall ran seamlessly into a counter that separated the waiting area from the pair of desks and prehistoric copy machine. Behind those stood a suspiciously ominous door with a brightly polished nameplate that read "M. de la Luna". If Jack remembered correctly, that would be the head honcho.

"Anyone home?" He dropped his bags on the counter, looking around for a bell, though he was sure if there was anyone in here, they'd have heard him. Still, he checked anyway. Old office biddies were hardwired to ignore anything aside from shrill pinging. He couldn't find anything within reach, which surprised him a bit. "Hello?"

"Oh, sorry! Hold on, hold on. I'll be right out!" A girl stuck her head out of some hidden side office, peering at him through heavily shadowed eyes. He frowned, knowing she was sizing him up, making silent remarks on his appearance. Thankfully, she held her tongue, but her gaze lingered warily on the duffel bag sitting between them as she cautiously approached. So, she had decided he looked like some terrorist with a C4 fetish. "Can I help you?"

He scratched at the back of his neck, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. "Umm, is there maybe somebody who _works _here I can talk to?"

"Mr. de la Luna is busy at the moment. Would you mind telling me your reason for being here? We require visitors to phone ahead of time."

Jack figured that was stretching the truth a bit. It was probably just odd looking people who may or may not have been the next Unabomber who _had_ to give warning of their approach. "I did. Well…sorta. I called yesterday; I'm transferring in."

A thin eyebrow raised at him as she weighed his words, trying to read his face. "You're a transfer student? Why? From where?"

"Forks. Up in Washington. Too much weirdness. Girls kept calling me a vampire; they wouldn't leave me alone."

"Uh-huh." The girl looked convinced; though Jack didn't fail to notice that it was that he was a lunatic. Still, she fumbled for the phone, pressing a few buttons, her eyes never leaving him. "Mr. de la Luna; there's a boy out here who says he's a transfer student. He says he called yesterday." There was an inaudible reply from the mysterious man behind the dark oak door. Whatever was said, it made the girl relax slightly; enough for her to drop out of her attack dog watchfulness, at the very least. She nodded. "Okay. No, she's not in yet. Oh, it's okay. I'm caught up on my work for next period too." More tuba music squeezed through the handset. "Yes, sir. I'll get him started on the paperwork. Glad I could help."

The phone clicked down and the girl looked up at Jack, her face splitting in a wide grin. "Sorry 'bout that. Let me just get you the paperwork you need to fill out. Go ahead and have a seat."

He was a bit alarmed by her sudden display of cheer. He tried to watch as she flitted around the small office, pulling papers out of drawers and filing cabinets, but quickly grew dizzy. God, she was hyper. "So, you _don't_ actually work here?"

"No. I'm just covering because Ms. Fisher had some car trouble. Again. Oh, I'm Anna, by the way. A lot of people call me 'Tooth' though." She flopped a thick stack of papers down in front of him, beaming brightly and leaning on the counter. From this close, Jack noticed that the tips of her hair were colored in bright blues and yellows. "So, what's your name? We don't get many transfers here. It's kinda exciting."

"Uh, Jack. Jack Frost," he replied reluctantly, pulling the forms towards him.

"Jack Frost? Like Old Man Winter? Is that why you bleach your hair like that?"

Jack rolled his eyes. He didn't actually do anything to his hair; he didn't even brush it regularly. But that would lead to a lengthy explanation that he had neither the time nor the desire for. "Yeah; just like Old Man Winter. This everything?" He was no clerical expert, but the stack of papers seemed unusually small.

"Well, everything that _you_ can fill out. Your parents will have to come do the rest."

Jack's expression darkened. _Parents_. That was why he'd dropped out of school in the first place – at the first chance he was able to. But then life; the evil, psychopathic pain-in-the-ass that it was; had dropped him in a situation where he'd desperately needed the help that was kindly offered. Kindly, but not freely. It had come with an annoying little price tag: finish high school.

"That is _not_ going to happen," he said flatly, dropping his head onto his free hand and tapping his pen on the counter. "Give me the rest, please."

"I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Listen. There're two options here; either hand over the rest of the paperwork or I say 'screw it' and live out the rest of my happy days as a high school dropout. And certain things being what they are, 'screw it' isn't really viable. So, how 'bout you be a good little secretary and just get the papers, 'kay?"

Anna's violet eyes flashed angrily and she slammed her tiny hands onto the counter, which to Jack suddenly didn't seem quite large enough as a barrier. "No, _you_ listen. There are rules for a reason. Enrollment has to be completed by a parent or guardian."

Both teens glared at each other, not noticing the soft click of a door opening. "Anna. Please gather together the necessary papers."

She looked surprised, but deflated obediently, tucking herself behind the absent Ms. Fisher's desk. "Yes, Mr. de la Luna."

"Mr. Frost; step into my office, please?"

"Yeah, sure." Jack gathered his bags up and followed the kind-faced principal through the miniscule office, shooting a cocksure grin at Anna before disappearing through the sturdy door.

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_**A/N: Ermm… Yeah, I was gonna have him meeting all the "Guardians" in this chapter, but… I really wanted to get this up for everyone.**_


	4. Chapter Two

_**A/N: Ok, I know there's been some confusion regarding the timeline. Let me clarify: this chapter and the previous chapter take place directly before the prologue, even though they are posted after it. This was done for dramatic effect. Also, I did warn you that I am not on the best speaking terms with temporal continuity. However, I can almost promise that everything from hereon in will be after the prologue and probably in a mostly chronological order. Maybe. Also, did everyone enjoy my **_**Twilight**_** crack last chapter?**_

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Jack felt strangely exhausted when he left the principal's office. He was surprised at how much de la Luna had needed to discuss with him, though he really shouldn't have been. After all, his wasn't exactly the standard "my parents moved because of work" transfer. They'd talked about the expected topics; courses he needed to take to graduate, credits he was missing, the availability of remedial resources and extracurricular opportunities, blah, blah, blah. And then they'd spent twice as long discussing the more sensitive details, pausing only when a middle aged woman poked her head in with a thick stack of forms; the vehicularly unfortunate Ms. Fisher, he presumed.

He hated needing help. After all, he'd taken care of himself for so long now, even before he was legally an adult. To be honest, he was rather proud of his independence. But he wasn't so proud that he didn't recognize that he did not have the means to succeed on his own this time. Sighing, Jack tangled his fingers in his hair and slipped his hand into his pocket, touching the old photo he carried everywhere. "Why'd you choose me, Beth?"

There was no answer. Beth was gone. The one tether to his past was finally severed. The one tether he had actually wanted to hold on to. Frowning, he shook his head and pushed his way out of the miniscule building, wondering what the hell he was going to do to pass the time. Burgess wasn't just _in_ the middle of nowhere; it was the _capitol_ of nowhere. Podunk, USA. Frowning, Jack looked to the brickwork for inspiration.

And recoiled as a cell phone shattered against it.

He whirled around, tensed for attack, his blue eyes scanning for movement. A long moment stretched before he spotted the culprit; a tall boy was crouched next to a tree across the street. Gradually, Jack relaxed. The boy didn't seem to be a threat, or to even notice that he was there. Even from this distance, Jack could sense the despair and utter hopelessness that shrouded the other's features; there was a dead-to-the-world cloud of agony that was almost palpable; something he recognized from his own past. There was the look of someone whose only desire was for it all to end.

Still taking no notice of Jack, the other boy rose to his feet, mechanically moving towards a small building that stood on the edge of the school, disappearing behind the windowless walls. Jack felt his stomach churn, his instincts telling him what darkness was about to unfold while a very small voice tried to insist that it wasn't his problem. Ignoring it, he turned on his heel and reentered the office, vaulting onto the counter and grabbing up the phone. His thin fingers quickly punched in the three numbers and he didn't wait for the operator to prompt him.

"Send an ambulance to Burgess High School. The shed west of the main office."

Hanging up, he exited the building once again, sprinting for the concrete shack. He pushed open the door, bracing himself for the blood he knew waited. Sure enough, the boy was sprawled in the middle of the floor, pools of red collecting under his sliced wrists. A sculpting knife gleamed ominously next to his hand.

With a tight frown, Jack pulled a tee-shirt out of his duffel, tearing it into strips as he knelt next to the other boy, slapping his face and trying to keep him conscious. "Stay awake," he commanded, pressing the fabric to the weeping wounds and fumbling to bind them quickly and tightly. "I'm not gonna let you die."__

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_**A/N: Ugh…what crap is this? I'm sorry guys. I wanted this chapter to be better, but it just wasn't working for me and it was starting to dredge up memories. I might siphon from those to angst up the next chapter though.**_


	5. Chapter Three

A heavy tension hung in the air, growing denser the closer Jack came to the high school. A populace that was normally energetic and carefree was now extremely subdued and hurting, suffering the loss of one of their own. It wasn't exactly the most welcoming environment to be joining. It wouldn't matter that Easton Bunnell was alive; weak but stable at the Burgess medical center. Nor would it matter that Jack was the reason the boy had survived, even if people did know he had bound the wounds and called for help. Which they didn't. No, Jack was prepared for the open hostility he knew waited in the scared hearts of people who would be convinced he was trying to take their friend's place.

He knew it wasn't personal; that's just the way things were in small towns. Most of the students had been together since kindergarten. A great number were related to each other; either siblings or cousins. He was a stranger; a new face appearing on the cusp of tragedy. Unwelcome. It didn't matter. He wasn't there to make friends. He was there because it was the only way he could claim the inheritance Beth left him.

Jack thought he knew what to expect, but when a dull-eyed Ms. Fisher handed him a class schedule and granted him passage to the Land of Burgess High School, he realized how blatant he was. He would have stood out less wearing feathers and rabbit ears. Everywhere he looked was a solemn sea of grey, splashed with the black armbands every student wore. It seemed like an odd choice of colors to Jack; after all, the kid wasn't dead. But maybe they didn't know that.

He supposed he should have felt awkward or intrusive, but honestly, he was a bit impressed. The entire school had come together and organized such a large tribute in less than twenty-four hours. That kind of unity was rare and only came when people knew each other for most of their lives. It was touching, in a weird sort of way.

Jack kept himself in the shadows, tucked under the sheltered awning that bridged the office with a door proclaiming itself to be the entry to the cafeteria, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible as his new classmates filed by with sad faces, each collecting a single white balloon from a girl who stood to the side. It took Jack a minute to realize it was Anna. She looked so different without her hair and makeup carefully arranged. Then he remembered how she had fallen apart when Easton had been wheeled to the ambulance. They must be really good friends; maybe even more than that. Jack didn't know.

When everyone had gotten their balloon, the crowd shifted as an inaudible signal sounded. As one, every fist opened and one hundred white spheres rose into the overcast sky. Jack watched them float away and disappear with a sad smile, fingernails absently scratching at his forearm.

A bell rang above his head, startling him out of his reverie, and he realized that he was suddenly very alone. The grey mass had dispersed, moving with ghostly silence off to their first classes…which he was now officially late for. Securing his backpack, he took off at a trot, searching for the room at the top of his list.__

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It took Jack a good five minutes to find the right classroom, which was pretty pathetic given the size of the school, and another three to work up the nerve to go in. He really did not want to call attention to himself and walking in almost ten minutes after the tardy bell was sure to do that. But he did it, cringing as the door protested loudly to being opened. Two dozen heads swiveled to stare at him.

"Oops. Sorry."

Blank stares crushed down on him and he flashed an uneasy grin, one hand reaching for the door handle in case he needed to make a getaway. Not that he was given the chance when the teacher came up to him, a cheery smile on her face. "You must be Jack," she stated, her voice as falsely happy as her smile. Jack decided right then that he didn't like her.

"What gave it away?" It was pure snark and everyone knew it. Who else could he be? Every desk in the room was occupied and he was the only stranger. But like the truly unflappable, the woman just gave him another not-at-all-reassuring reassuring smile.

"I'm sorry we haven't gotten a desk for you in here yet. But you can sit at this table until we do, okay?"

She left him there, and he scowled at her back, flopping down into the rickety chair provided. What was her problem? If all the teachers were like this, Jack might just consider offing himself in a storage shed too. He spent the remainder of the period with his eyes glazed over, not even pretending to listen to the patronizing woman. There was no doubt left in his mind that this finishing high school thing was going to be a long, painful ordeal.__

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Jack's other classes passed uneventfully and to his relief none of the other teachers were total assholes. Hell, some were even kind of cool…or they would be if other circumstances weren't so dismal. Still, that didn't mean that he wasn't thrilled when the sweet freedom of lunchtime rolled around. A light drizzle had fallen by that point, meaning that Jack had the campus more or less to himself as people took shelter in the cafeteria or library. Some even drove home to eat, which he found novel. None of the other schools he'd ever been to had allowed that. Too bad he didn't have a car. Or a real home, for that matter. He was just bumming space until he graduated.

So he used the time to explore his hellish new playground, familiarizing himself with the school's layout. It didn't take him long; the campus was tiny and he wasn't distracted by trying to find a certain room. He figured it would be less than a week before he could walk it blindfolded. That might be something he'd have to do, just for the fun of it.

A flurry of motion caught his attention and he turned, peering upwards. A lone balloon struggled in the snagging fingers of a tree branch, trying vainly to leap into the beckoning wind. Taking pity on its plight, Jack vaulted himself into the tree, scurrying up to the offending branch with practiced ease. Thin, nimble fingers gently untangled the ribbon, pausing when they brushed over the scrap of paper tied to the tail. Curious, he unfolded it, reading the sloped writing.__

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_Please don't take him from us. _

_~Anna_

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Jack slipped the note into his hoodie pocket, brow furrowed. He let the balloon slip out of his grasp, letting it chase after its long-gone siblings, and dropped gracefully to the ground as the bell announced the second stretch of academic torture. He couldn't wait for the day to be over. There was someone he needed to see.__

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_**A/N: Well, that was a bit easier to write than I thought. Didn't even make me as sad as I thought it would.**_


	6. Chapter Four

Easton felt oddly heavy, as if every ounce of blood in his body was siphoned out and replaced with lead. He also felt sort of noodle-y in his limbs. Mostly, though, he felt tired, which made no sense; he was just waking up. His eye began to twitch as an itch irritated it and he tried to raise a hand to rub it away, freezing when his movements jerked to a halt less than an inch away. "What?"

"Suicide watch negates free movement privileges."

He rolled his head to the side, searching for the source of the voice, finding it in a boy who couldn't have been older than eighteen. And in his opinion, that was being generous. Said boy was perched on the back of a chair that was likewise balanced on one leg, teetering slightly and staring out a semi-dark window. "Who're you?"

"Peer counselor?"

Easton frowned, noting the questioning of the phrase and not believing the answer. "If you're here to gawk at the guy who tried to kill himself, get out."

A pale face turned to look at him, matching his frown. "Who's gawking? Besides, I didn't say I was _your_ peer counselor." He dropped down into the chair lightly, kicking his feet up onto the end of the bed, which annoyed Easton immensely. It also annoyed him that he couldn't do anything about it other than glower. "I could probably arrange it, though."

"What d'ya want, ya annoyin' wanker?"

A crooked grin answered him first. "Oh, have we moved past who I am, then? Okay; well for starters, as the guy who saved your life – you're welcome, by the way – I think I'm entitled to be the first one to point out how insanely selfish that was."

"Wait, what?"

"I mean, do you know how _awkward_ it is transferring into a school the day after another student tries to get on the Hari-kari Highway? Everybody _eyeballing_ you with these beady little glares, trying to telepathically warn you that you have no chance of taking So-and-so's place-"

"Wh-what d'ya mean, _you_ saved my life?"

"-which you have _no_ intention of doing in the first place-"

"Hey, you chatterin' little gumby. I'm asking you a question."

"-and that's just the effect on _me_!" Blue eyes swiveled to Easton in a what-the-hell expression, accompanied by wide-spread hands and a half-hearted shrug. "Not to mention the dripping, sappy, angsting of a hundred teenagers; who are extremely well-organized, I will admit. I mean the whole 'let's all wear grey and release prayer balloons' thing was pretty touching. Then again, it made me feel like a jackass, showing up in blue-"

"What makes ya think I give a flyin' wallaby's ass what you or anyone else thinks?"

"Not even Anna?"

The question was asked so bluntly and honestly, without any of the previous jackassery, that Easton was caught off guard for a second. There was a moment of silence, where both boys just stared at each other, expecting something. "What did she tell you?" he asked finally, his voice quiet, his anger and hurt hidden.

"That people call her Tooth and that I look like a domestic terrorist…indirectly, of course." The boy slipped a hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt, pulling out a scrap of paper. He tossed it on the bed and undid one of the tethers that held Easton's arms. "But people rarely say what's important." He moved towards the door, pausing when Easton called out.

"Ya never did tell me who you are."

"Jack. See ya around, Kangaroo."__

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_**A/N: You know in the beginning, in the intro where I said I'd rarely make a peep? Have you figured out yet that I was lying? I'm not trying to launch any ships here, since this type of story tends to be better from the pier, but is anyone else noticing strong flavors of Bunny/Tooth? I mean, poor North and Sandy have only been mentioned as a side note in the prologue. I feel shmuckish.**_


	7. Chapter Five

_**A/N: *stumbles out of the Tardis* No, I'm not a Whovian, but I know what the Tardis is. Anywho, this chapter takes place a few weeks after the previous ones…about two months, I'd say, give or take a few days. Be prepared for most/all future updates to involve a time jump, as I am encompassing the majority of a school year, which would be insanely boring to read. Now, onto the story! **_

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Easton roamed the wide halls of the medical center, scratching at his bandages. The scars below them were mostly healed with just a few ugly scabs holding on where the cuts had been deepest. He couldn't wait until he could get the wrappings off, but for now, he was just happy to be out of his room without nurses and orderlies hovering around waiting to strap him back down. He allowed himself a small smile as he remembered how they had flipped out the morning after Jack's first visit, finding him standing at his window, free of his bonds and watching the sunrise.

Surprisingly, Jack had been one of his most frequent visitors, easily matching St. North and Sandy and placing a close second to Anna. Though if he were being honest, her visits were a bit uncomfortable since they always ended with her fleeing the room and bursting into tears in the hallway. Other classmates came by once or twice or sent cards and flowers, but those four were the main ones.

The other three made sense, but Jack thoroughly confused Easton. They had no ties to each other aside from Jack patching him up at the school (which he had finally figured out by asking a nurse and putting the pieces together), but the other boy seemed to be genuinely interested in his recovery. Every few days he would pop up, always a little after sunset when the hospital's population was reduced to the patients, a handful of night staff, and the random family member keeping a 24/7 vigil over a kid with chicken pox. Jack would then toss around small barbs that would eventually rile him up, and then drop in some sly question or comment that led him to start talking about the things he kept hidden.

It had taken Easton a few times to realize what Jack was doing, but now that he knew, he found that he didn't really care. In a weird way, it was helping. Jack was neutral enough that Easton felt neither judged nor pitied. He was starting to almost enjoy the pale, skinny kid's company.

If only he could get him to stop calling him "Kangaroo."

He turned into a door marked "Psychology Department", a knot twisting in his gut. The doctors had given him a choice between mandatory group therapy and attaining a (still mandatory but less rigid) peer counselor. Since he didn't exactly like the idea of sitting around discussing feelings with a large group of people, he'd chosen the latter. Still, as he pushed the door open, he couldn't help feeling weak.

_You are_, a voice hissed in the back of his mind, his arms itching again. _Weak and scared and hopelessly alone._

Easton pushed the thoughts down and strode into the plush foyer of the department, addressing the small, mousy woman who sat behind a large desk. "I'm suppose'ta meet a peer counselor."

She smiled up at him. "He'll be right out, Mr. Bunnell. It's so nice to see you're feeling better."

Easton didn't get the chance to answer before a small door behind her swung open and an all-too-familiar mop of white hair caught his attention. "You've gotta be kiddin' me."

"Yo, Kangaroo!" Jack smiled at him, laughing at his dumbfounded expression. "Don't look at me like that; I told you I was a peer counselor." He hooked an arm around Easton's shoulders, steering him back out into the hallways, shooting a quick farewell to the receptionist. "See you later, Jenni!"__

It didn't take long for Easton to recover from his disbelief, shoving Jack off him and glaring hotly the minute they were out in the corridor. "What the hell is your problem? Why're ya shovin' into my life? I don't need your pity and I don't need ya for a counselor! Rack off, already!"

Jack stood silently, nodding thoughtfully through Easton's rant while examining his fingernails. He shrugged when the other boy fell silent. "Yeah, sure. Fine by me, Kangaroo. After all, I'm sure you'll be much happier with some Goth wannabe who calls himself 'Pitch Black' and 'understands the darkness in your heart' because it is his 'eternal master'." He turned, walking away without another word.

"And you think _you_ understand?"

Jack paused, waiting for Easton to catch up to him. When he did, he pulled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, holding out his arms to the other boy. "More than most," he answered when Easton's green eyes widened, tracing the stark scars that made the pale skin around them seem tanned. They weren't the thin, shallow remains of casual injuries, inflicted to kindle some feeling. They were long and deep, running from the heel of Jack's hands to just above his elbows.

Serious.__

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The pair wandered around the hospital aimlessly, talking casually. Despite the mellow pace and easy, mild conversation, Easton's mind was racing. Suicide just didn't line up with the image Jack presented to the world. Then again, how much did he know? He'd only met Jack a few months ago. That was scarcely enough time to learn anything, let alone the darkest secrets a person kept.

"Jack?"

They paused, the shorter boy glancing up, silently giving Easton permission to ask his questions. It was only then that Easton realized that the sleek, sterile décor had melded into bright colors and patterns, meant to be cheerful to the young eyes that would have to see it every day. Somehow, their stroll had led them to the pediatric ward. And as his gaze fell on the two patients behind the window they'd stopped by, Easton couldn't help but wonder if it was on purpose. All thoughts about the mystery of Jack vanished as he stepped forward, pressing his hand to the glass. _Them_.

"You alright?"

He barely noticed Jack at his side, looking at him with genuine concern. All he saw were the children; siblings; injured and battered, sleeping soundly. "My fault." He had never met them, never spoken to them, but Easton knew their faces. He knew their names. And he knew that Jamie and Sophie Bennett were alone because of him. "My fault," he repeated.

"Easton, it's not your fault." Jack's hand settled on his shoulder comfortingly, his touch cold.

"It is! Those two are alone and hurt because of me!" He glared at Jack, shaking off his reassuring touch. "Because I wouldn't step up when I knew she was too tired to be driving."

"She who?" Jack asked calmly, though deep down, Easton figured he knew already.

"My…my mother." He stepped away from the window, slouching to the floor along the opposite wall. "About a week before this-" he indicated his wrists "-there was an accident. My mother was pickin' up my dad from the bar; she was so tired, though. She asked me to go. But I wouldn't; I didn't want him home, not when he was drunk. So she went; she always went. And on the way back, she fell asleep and then-" He raised his gaze back up to the window. "Their parents died. Dad died. Mother…she died the day I did this."

"But they lived. Easton, you couldn't have known. It may have happened even if you were driving. You shouldn't feel guilty. And even if you do, hurting yourself won't make it go away." Jack moved back to the window, a faint smile on his face. "And you know, they don't have to be alone. You're here."

Green eyes snapped to blue ones. "Me? I don't think they'd want anything to do with me."

"Kids don't hate, Kangaroo. These ones don't even know that you're connected. They just need someone who understands and who cares. I'd say you fit that bill better than anyone."

"But-"

"Just try it."__

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_**A/N: I know nothing about how long certain injuries take to heal. I also know nothing about peer counseling. And I know less than nothing about Goths, but I would like to point out to any Goth readers that I meant no offense. All fun was poked specifically at Pitch, who I decided deserved this brief cameo.**_


	8. Chapter Six

_**A/N: *rummages through previous chapters* Hmmm…no disclaimers. And since no one has shown up at my doorstep with handcuffs and aviators, this can only mean that I do, in fact, own Rise of the Guardians. However, just in case said handcuffs and aviators are en route, I will hereby clarify that by own, I mean "have purchased" and by Rise of the Guardians, I mean "a DVD combo pack of the movie of the same name belonging to Dreamworks." There, now I can officially avoid any lawsuits or jail time.**_

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Anna buzzed around in nervous circles, practically hovering in anticipation. She alternated between hanging off Nick's arm, wringing her hands, and violently shaking poor Sandy, chattering animatedly as her excitement overfilled the small container that was her body. "Guys! He's coming back today! Easton's coming back!"

"Tooth, we know." Nick's voice wrapped thickly around his heavy accent.

"Ohmygosh! I'm so excited! Do you think he's gonna be different?"

"From yesterday? Not very." Easton had been released from the hospital the day before and the trio had thrown him a small homecoming party. It had also secretly doubled as a make-sure-he-doesn't-try-again party. Though he had been a bit more withdrawn than he normally was, he'd seemed to genuinely enjoy their company. And they hadn't found him trying to disassemble any razors, so they figured all was well.

"I'm so excited! It's been so weird without him. I-"

At that point, the rarely-verbal Sandy removed his hands from his ears, reaching around Anna to tug on Nick's sleeve, pointing down the road with his free hand. The taller boy squinted, frowning when a shape became discernible. "Sandy; that is not Easton. That is John Frost."

"Jack," Anna corrected absently, frowning while continuing her anxious watch.

"Right. Jake Frost; is what I said."

Sandy face-palmed, pointing more urgently. The other two looked again, grins splitting their faces as another figure came into view, less obvious against the landscape than Jack's white hair.

"Easton!" Anna squealed, dancing from foot to foot before sprinting to meet her friend.__

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"Okay, Kangaroo. The main thing you gotta remember is that people are going to be treating you like spun glass for a while. You're gonna be 'fragile' and 'damaged', and it's bound to piss you off. Just…_don't_ rise to it. The more you insist that you're fine, the more convinced they'll be that you aren't. People aren't going to start acting like it didn't happen until long after you do. Make sense?"

"Parts of it. Other parts, not so much."

"Exactly! What can I say; people are crazy. Especially the ones who swear they aren't."

As if to prove Jack's point, an excited shriek pierced the air, riding on the sound of running footsteps. Both boys' heads snapped up, eyes going wide as Anna barreled towards them, arms flung wide. "_Easton!"_ Jack dove out of the way with a shout, scrambling for cover. He knew the over-zealous girl would stop before she actually made contact with Easton, but that didn't mean she wouldn't flatten _him_ if he stood in her way. And sure enough, the second she had passed over the spot he had previously occupied, she slowed to a sane walk, dropping her arms. "Are you okay?"

From his spot in the dandelions, Jack shot Easton an I-told-you-so look, pushing himself to his feet. "Oh, I'm fine. No harm done."

Anna glared at him. "I wasn't talking to _you_, Jack Frost. He hasn't been harassing you, has he Easton?"

Jack shrugged at the dismissal and brushed himself off, leaving a bewildered Easton to pacify a friend he newly discovered was quite insane. As the pale youth walked the last half a block to the school gates, he passed Nick St. North and Sandoval Manson, who had the most unfortunate name on the planet. It was no wonder he rarely said anything and went by Sandy. Jack knew they made up the rest of Easton's regular entourage and had been frequent visitors when he was in the hospital. So he greeted them pleasantly. And while they didn't know that he had also spent a lot of time with their friend recently, they were affable enough, sparing smiles as they walked by.

Jack thought it wasn't a bad morning, as far as high school went.__

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If Easton hadn't understood what Jack had meant before, he sure did now. He had never been known for having the best moods, but his was currently as black as night. Every single class had been the same; every teacher had tiptoed around him, more intent on preserving his "frail" psyche than actually teaching. The students who hadn't already been in a class with him had gawked half of the period away; _that_ at least had dwindled, however, as the number of "new" faces lessened. He'd tried to ignore it as best he could, but by the time lunch rolled around, he was ready to shove a pencil into the throat of the next person to ask him if he "felt up to" something. He wondered if homicidal was an improvement over suicidal.

Rather than deal with more staring, he hit the vending machine and settled down under a beech tree, enjoying the early spring sunlight. He took a deep breath, holding it before releasing it slowly, willing the anger to go away. It wasn't their fault. He knew that. How to react around someone who'd tried to end their own life wasn't exactly standard curriculum. People didn't know; didn't _want_ to know; how to handle something like that because they convinced themselves they'd never have to. "Bloody dunderheads."

"Yo."

Easton jumped at the closeness of the voice, scanning around fruitlessly before looking upwards. Jack hung upside-down, knees hooked over a branch. "What're ya doin'?"

"Eatin'."

"In a tree?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

Jack shrugged, an awkward gesture to make when inverted. "Why not?"

Easton didn't have an answer for that and really didn't want to look for one. "Well, can ya do it without botherin' me?"

Another shrug. "Hey, I was here first. Not my fault no one looks up. _Ever_. How's Sophie?"

The question stopped Easton's retort before it formed; it was something Jack seemed to have a knack for. Ever since that first "session" with Jack, he'd been spending his free time with the Bennett siblings; particularly Sophie. Just the thought of the energetic toddler brought a genuine smile to his face. "She's good, mate. And I think she understands that her folks are gone; most ankle-biters her age can't grasp something like that." Not once had he ever heard her cry out for her mother or father.

"You get along with her pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah. Jamie's a bit tougher, though."

"He's older. Sophie may understand that her parents are _gone_, but Jamie understands that they're dead. But he's young, so he's still trying to come to terms with it. I'll bet he likes your visits more than he lets on."

"Maybe. I don't think it's gonna make much difference, though. Come June, they won't be around anymore." A hint of sadness crept into Easton's voice.

Jack flipped himself around, swinging up to perch on the branch instead of hang off it. "Oh?"

"Jamie said they're gonna go live with an uncle, I think. I guess their mother had a brother or something. And as much as I shouldn't, I really want them to stay; not go away with him, whoever he is. Some random relative they barely know."

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get a word out, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and calling all the students back to the drudgery of school. "What've you got next, Kangaroo?"

"Art." Easton smiled, ignoring the familiar kangaroo remark. He'd always loved art; it was just the subject he needed to let go of all the hostility this day had brought.

"Awesome. Me too. Race ya." Without waiting for a reply, Jack leapt from his branch and took off across the quad.

Easton followed a half-second later, hot on Jack's heels. "You dirty cheat!"__

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"You've got to be kiddin' me. You want me to just sit around and _paint_? How 'bout I just stand in the corner and flick my lip while I'm at it?"

Easton was pissed. Full-blown, temper-tantrum, break shit pissed. His hands shook at his sides, resisting the urge to clench into fists as he stood staring at Mrs. Young. The entire class had gone silent, paused in their task of pulling out their unfinished clay sculptures, and was staring at the scene. Except for Jack, who had claimed Mrs. Young's swivel chair and was spinning lazy circles while trying to balance a pen on his nose.

"Easton. Please calm down. It's nothing personal; it's just that we only have a small number of sculpting knives and everyone else has already started their statues. Besides, you're such a _good_ painter."

That was a load of crap. Easton knew that there were enough knives to supply a class twice this size. He also knew it was _very_ personal. The woman thought he would run off with one and slice himself again; or worse, that he would do it right there with everyone watching. And by the way some people were hiding their clay, not everyone had actually started. The only thing that was true was that he _was_ a good painter. And normally, he wouldn't mind painting instead of sculpting. But not when he was being patronized.

"He can use my knife."

Bugged eyes swiveled away from the student-teacher standoff, settling on a slowly rotating Jack instead. Mrs. Young and Easton were the last to look at him after the former lost the battle to stare the other into submission. "Thank you for the kind offer, Jack, but then how will you finish your sculpture?"

"Let's face it, Mrs. Y. That hunk of clay is gonna be God-awful no matter what I use to shape it. If Easton here wants to sculpt, I say let him."

Mrs. Young cast a frazzled look between Jack and Easton, her face pinching as her excuse began to unravel in her hands. "No, Jack. It really is kind of you, but we utilize supplies on a first-come, first-serve basis. Unfortunately, Easton wasn't here when-"

"Or," Jack cut her off, leaning the chair back as far as it would go and pointing the pen at her, "you can just admit that you're afraid he's gonna go amateur butcher on himself again and stop square-dancing around the issue."

Easton had to admit, he was impressed. Jack knew what he was doing and had hit the nail on the head. He didn't care if he was painting or sculpting or squashing together Play-Doh. He just wanted the courtesy of being dealt with honestly. He raised an eyebrow at Mrs. Young, waiting to see how she would react.

First she stuttered. Then she spluttered, glancing between the boys who eyed her expectantly while trying to ignore the wide-eyed gawking of the rest of the class. For a moment, she looked utterly helpless, and then completely defeated. Her stance slouched and she looked at the ground. Still, she didn't say anything.

"Forget it," Easton huffed, grabbing up his backpack. There was a scramble to clear a path as he stormed out of the room. He felt a strong urge to punch something and settled on slamming the door against the brick as he exited, making the glass vibrate.

As soon as the door closed behind him, a buzz of conversation rattled off the walls.__

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Easton just stormed around for a while, seething silently before drifting towards the small pyramid that rose out of the quad; if he was going to be a spectacle, he might as well be center stage. Slumping at the picnic table on the top tier, he idly began to peel the chipped paint.

He was surprised when a slight weight settled on the bench next to him and warm arms wrapped around him gently. He turned to look down at Anna's multi-toned hair and relaxed into the hug she'd been too afraid to give him that morning. "Thanks, Tooth."

She added an extra squeeze before looking up at him, concern on her face. "What's wrong?"

"People."

"People?"

"Yeah." Her bright amethyst eyes stared at him, urging him to clarify. "Everybody's actin' different…like I'm gonna break. I knew they would, but…" He trailed off, deflating, his eyes going to the pile of paint chips he'd built up.

Anna didn't know what to say. Even if she did, she doubted it would help. With all the sympathy she had for her friend, she didn't really understand how he was feeling or what he'd been through. So she remained quiet, rubbing his back and providing a bubble of comfort as the bell rang and people hurried to their final class, a few casting questioning gazes at them.__

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Jack was cackling with laughter by the time he spilled out of the art room. After Easton's dramatic exit, the class had devolved, spiraling out of control. Mrs. Young had sunk into a chair and spent the entire period staring at the clay- and paint-stained table with her fingers in her hair. More or less unsupervised, the students had run with the opportunity, flinging clay at each other and playing increasingly graphic games of hangman.

But the fun was over now, and Jack figured he should probably try to find Easton. The other boy had handled the situation surprisingly well, though storming off had been a bit much. Still, the chatter it had inspired had been assuring; Jack had heard more than one person comment that Easton hadn't changed a bit. That was good…even if it did reveal some unfavorable personality traits of a certain kangaroo.

As he rounded a corner, he raised a hand to his mouth, about to call out, but stopped when he spotted Easton. He was sitting at the table under the canopy in the middle of the yard, raised above the teeming crowd, cradled in Anna's arms. To outside eyes, it would have looked like she was clinging to him, but Jack could see how Easton leaned into the embrace, welcoming the comfort. "Good on you, Kangaroo," he murmured, turning towards the gymnasium instead, leaving them both to their moment of connection.__

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_**A/N: Okay, I really don't know what happened here, but I think my secret desire to send a teacher into a nervous breakdown might have crept through a bit. And I had to toss in a bit of SweetTooth fluff, since it's been clawing at this story since the gate. I'm foreseeing maybe two or three more chapters, since I'm running out of ideas. Please review and let me know if there's anything specific you'd like to see. I'll do my best to work it in.**_


	9. Interlude: Carnival

-:-**INTERLUDE**-:-

"_Carnival_"

_**A/N: Brace yourselves for cheer and happiness and lots of color. This chapter contains fluff. And sideways mentions of Phil. We like Phil.**_

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Jack stared at the bright pastel flyer, dumbfounded. Blindly, he reached out and grabbed the arm of a passerby who happened to be Phil Yetz, the school's resident football and baseball hero. Anywhere else, that might have had him muttering an apology and suddenly remembering something important; Phil was built like a Humvee; but Jack had been at Burgess long enough now to know that the jocks were the nerds, the nerds were the drama dorks, and the drama dorks were the jocks. Cliques were virtually nonexistent. "What is this?" he asked, jabbing a finger at the flyer.

"Recruitment for the Easter Carnival, Snowflake."

Jack rolled his eyes, both at the nickname (at least it was slightly more original than "Frosty") and Phil's apparent need to state the obvious. "I can read, thank you. I meant, what's this carnival about?" He was kind of amazed the paper actually said "Easter" instead of "Spring".

"It's just this little fair we throw together for the kids down at the Elm. Y'know, dunk tank, egg hunt. Some people bring their horses and stuff, and a lot of us here will do something to help out, like face painting or little performances. Why? You thinking about pitching in, Jace?"

"Jack." Really, it wasn't a difficult name to remember; the fact that he shared it with a seasonal icon _should_ have made it easier.

"Whatever. But seriously, dude, you should think about it. It's tons of fun, plus the girls who work the dunk tank are always smokin'."

"I'll keep that in mind. Aren't you late for line-driving someone in the face?"

Phil looked confused for a second, but then started laughing, punching Jack in the arm in a way that was probably meant to be friendly. In reality, it just knocked him off balance and made him grit his teeth against the resulting throb of pain. "You're a funny guy, Jace."

"Yeah. Funny. That's me." Jack glared at Phil's back as he ran off to practice. Really, how hard was it to remember "Jack?" Heaving a sigh, he looked back at the paper thoughtfully. "Why not?" he mused, heading towards the school's library.__

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That was how he wound up wearing bunny ears, leading a pony in circles while giggling children bounced around on its back. He didn't really mind the bunny ears, since everyone working had a pair, but the fact that his hair looked like the result of Rainbow Brite on a bender (courtesy of Anna) had dampened his normally jovial mood. He tangled his fingers in the multi-toned locks, pulling them away with powdery stains. "It'll never be the same," he groused quietly as the circuit fell still, switching out the group of kids.

"Buck up, Jack. It's just spray on; it'll wash out."

"Hey, hey! It's the Easter Kangaroo!" Jack grinned as Easton walked over, dressed up in, not only ears, but a full rabbit costume. "That get-up suits you; it really does."

"What can I say, mate? Kids love the Easter Bunny." Easton helped hoist a little girl onto the back of Jack's equally-rainbowed pony partner, flinching when she tugged on the ears of his costume. "Tooth wanted me to tell ya that this'll be the last loop before we send the ankle-biters on the egg hunt."

Jack nodded, tugging on the lead line when the cheerful music started up again. His feet led him around the path that was now familiar, freeing his mind to focus on the laughter of the children. In the distance, he saw Jamie hobbling around on crutches, a wide smile on his face. Sophie was at his side, nearly lost behind an Easter basket that was as tall as she was. He watched her excited reaction as Easton hopped over to them, giving them both a chocolate egg, and decided that rainbow hair wasn't such a bad sacrifice. Not if it helped bring around so much happiness.

After all, most of it would wash out.__

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With the pony rides done for a while, Jack was free to roam around the rest of the carnival. All the kids had been herded over to the park by the teachers and their parents, so the high schoolers had free run of the games and the handful of rides. The latter were more or less ignored, being mostly targeted for kids, but a large crowd had gathered around the dunk tank. Amused, Jack joined them.

Anna was perched on the collapsible bench, along with two other girls who bore a strong resemblance to her. Since they both looked to be about twenty, Jack could only assume they were her older sisters. Half of the baseball team was lined up, taking turns trying to hit the target and drop the girls into the water. Jack found it funny that the throws kept going wide, especially when the Toothey sisters began taunting the boys. Smirking, Jack nudged Phil's arm. "Here, lemme try."

Phil handed Jack his softball, brow cocked. "Sure thing."

Anna looked surprised when Jack stepped forward, but grinned. She'd warmed to the boy a bit in the last few weeks. "Give it up, Jack," she teased while her sisters made faces. "We own this. Ain't nobody gonna dunk us."

He answered her grin with one of his own, tossing the ball up lazily. "You think so?" He pointed at his head. "Just remember that you had this coming." He threw the ball.

There was a shriek, followed by a splash. Then a cheer erupted, flowing into a chorus of laughter.__

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Later that night, Jack stared into the traditional after-carnival bonfire, gazing around at the faces of the others. On his right, Easton was dozing with his head on Anna's lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. Across from them, Nick and Sandy were racing each other to a chocolate overdose. Phil and a few others bordered on the fringes, laughing and talking quietly among themselves. Overhead, stars twinkled and a sliver of the moon shone down. It was peaceful and calming, and for the first time in a long time, Jack almost felt like he belonged.

"Guys, did you see how happy all those kids were today? It was magical." Every gaze swiveled to Anna as she spoke, answering with soft smiles. "Even the Bennett siblings were there."

"Poor little ankle-biters. I'm glad they got to have some fun. They deserve it."

Anna smiled down at Easton. She knew he'd developed a soft spot for the pair and often saw him visiting them where they were staying. "You're pretty fond of them, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna miss 'em."

"What do you mean?" Nick asked, setting aside the Cadbury egg he'd been unwrapping.

"They're gonna go live with some uncle on the west coast after the school year's up."

"I didn't know they had an uncle. But, that's a good thing, isn't it? At least they'll be with family, right?" Anna didn't sound very convincing.

"Family?" Easton bristled, voice crackling with indignant fury. "What kind of _family_ leaves children alone for months? Who is this uncle, anyway? Some shriveled old dick who's only gonna take them for the tax write-off? Those poor kids deserve better than that. Right, Jack?" He turned to look at him. "Jack?"

Jack was gone.__

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_**A/N: Okay, so there was some reiteration there at the end, but it was more to include the rest of the gang. Also, silly me. Here I was, going along, planning to write something all cutesy and soft for this little interlude and; surprise, surprise; I take a sharp left across four lanes of rush hour traffic and hop onto drama lane.**_


	10. Chapter Seven

Jack fidgeted in his seat, picking distastefully at the dress he had been practically shoved into. Ms. Fisher, charming secretary though she was, insisted it was called a gown and was a traditional and necessary part of any graduation ceremony, but really, it was a spangly belt away from being full-blown women's wear. But at least it wasn't black; that wasn't a good color for him. It always washed any color out of his skin and made him appear corpse-like. Then again, prison orange wasn't exactly flattering either.

Why did they even need a ceremony, anyway? Jack was of the firm opinion that it would be just as effective to shove the diplomas through the school's pitching machine and have the recipients go long. Alas, he did not run things. So he was forced to sit through the presentation of several awards, two speeches, and a slide show that had a surprising number of photos of him – though he honestly couldn't remember ever seeing a camera at any of the pictured events –before Mr. de la Luna finally approached the podium and started reading out names.

Even that took three and a half lifetimes. Twenty-six names really shouldn't have taken more than thirteen solid minutes, but that old fiend Tradition reared its ugly head once more, morphing the kindly principal into a hellish monster who sought to bestow one final embarrassment on his charges by announcing full names to the gathered spectators.

"_Easton Andrew Bunnell."_

There was hesitant clapping at the mention of Easton's name, and though it soon grew in strength, Jack knew people were remembering how it had nearly been removed in blood. He grinned as his friend accepted his diploma, shook de la Luna's hand, and returned to his seat. This whole ordeal would go faster if people didn't insist on snapping a hundred pictures of each graduate. He returned to loathing the hideous orange garment as more names were read and applauded, waiting for his own.

"_Jackson Overland Frost."_

Like Easton's, Jack's applause was weak and strictly polite, though it didn't gain any potency. He might have made himself reasonably well-known at the school, but outside of that, few people knew who he was. He took the paper, shook the offered hand, and blinked stupidly as a camera flash blinded him, trying not to stumble on his way back to his chair.

He stared at the scroll, oblivious to the other names being called. He'd done it. If you had asked him a year ago, he'd have said it was impossible, but here was the proof. He'd graduated high school. A small flicker of pride ignited in his chest, surging as the girl he was seated next to tugged on his arm, pulling him up as the class stood as one, the last senior (poor Phil, he was always last) returning to his spot. Mr. de la Luna looked back at them proudly before leaning towards the microphone once more.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Proud parents and families. I present to you the graduating class of 2013. Congratulations to these fine young men and women. May they find much success as they move into the world as adults."

Jack's actions were mechanical as he moved his tassel to the other side of his cap, falling in line as they filed out of the gymnasium on a wave of applause. He'd really done it.__

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Easton took a deep breath as he emerged outside, glancing up at the twilit sky. Now that it was all over, he suddenly realized how much he would miss this place, even with the bad memories. The good ones easily outnumbered him. He let his gaze roam over his classmates, memorizing their faces, wondering when the next time he would see them all together would be. But then the families started to spill out onto the quad, beaming with pride and joy, and he realized that he didn't have that. There was no one waiting to wrap him in an embrace and say well done. Hanging his head, he turned to put some distance between himself and the crowd, not wanting to spoil anyone else's mood.

"Eas'on, Eas'on, Eas'on!"

The bubbly voice made him pause and look over his shoulder. Sure enough, a tousled blond mop came weaving through the crowd, racing toward him on stubby toddler legs. He smiled, crouching down so that he was at eye level when Sophie came crashing into him. "Hey, ya little ankle-biter. What're you doin' here?"

"Congratulations," she exclaimed, pushing a balloon into his face. The serious set of her face told him that she'd been practicing the large word and she smiled brightly when he thanked her, taking the gift and ruffling her already mussed hair. As she laughed, Jamie emerged from the crowd, holding out his own clumsily wrapped gift.

"For you," he muttered. "To say thanks. For hanging out with us, I mean. Most people kind of forgot how to treat us like normal kids."

Easton's heart swelled as he took the package, pulling both siblings into a hug. "Nah, mate. Thank you. You guys helped me remember what's important. I'm gonna miss you."

"Who said they were goin' anywhere, Kangaroo?"

Three heads turned at the sound of Jack's voice, but it was Jamie who spoke first. "Uncle Jack? I thought you were going to take us back west with you?"

"Guys, this is your home. Kinda mine now, too. I'm not going to make you leave it behind." Jack smiled, scooping Sophie up as she wiggled out of Easton's shock-slackened grip. "You okay over there, Kangaroo?"

Easton's jaw moved wordlessly for a moment; long enough for Jack to make some crack about getting oil for the Tinman. "_You're_ their uncle?" he finally managed to sputter. "Wha-Why didn't ya say somethin'?"

Jack shrugged, hoisting Sophie to his shoulders. "You never asked. It's not exactly something you just drop in casual conversation."

"But some of the things I said-" He'd complained more than once about the mystery uncle of his two favorite children, always failing to notice how Jack would get quiet, change the subject, or disappear entirely. Now he felt stupid for not putting two and two together. "I'm sorry, mate."

Jack just grinned, spinning in circles while Sophie cackled with glee. "Don't sweat it, Easton. You couldn't have known."

Easton opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a shout. Across the quad, Anna had climbed on top of Nick's shoulders, waving at them frantically. Sandy and Phil stood to either side of the Russian footstool.

"Easton! Jack! C'mon; bonfire!"

Jack nodded his head toward the group, letting his mischievous grin fade into a real smile. "Pretty cool family we've got, isn't it?"__

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_**A/N: Alright gang. This is going to be the final chapter. I'm sure there's probably a lot more I could include, but that would require a great deal of exposition, which, quite frankly, tends to be boring to read. So, unless there is great demand for an epilogue, I shall drop the final curtain. I hope you had as much fun (but not as much brain trauma) reading this as I did writing it, and thank you for sticking with me. Fun fact: this is the first multi-chapter story I've finished. Ever. Of any kind. Yay!**_


	11. Acknowledgments

Acknowledgements

Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, read, and reviewed this story. You all made it possible.

**StormWarning27**

**Daughter of Wisdom and Music**

**livingwithbooks**

**lissy97**

**adaydreamer95**

**Night Sapphire**

**ShadowLover2399**

**GraceOrazio**

**Treehugger13**

**americaplusengland**

**Anon Fanfic Reader**

_Avatar Aang_ (guest)

**LittleMissDarkling**

**Lighted Candle**

_Em _(guest)

**freefall-gypsy**

**Rolynne**

…and all the anonymous guests who reviewed.

And a big thanks to Jackiechane100 for issuing this challenge.


	12. Graduation Roster

_**For shits, grins, and giggles (and because I like to psych people out) I proudly present the Burgess High School graduating class of 2013.**_

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_Suzanne Marie Adair_

_Francisco de Jesus Alvarez_

_**Easton Andrew Bunnell**_

_Beverly Anne Donovan_

_Naomi Janice Dunlap_

_Jonathan Jacob Evans_

_George Mason Finch_

_**Jackson Overland Frost**_

_Emily Alice Gains_

_Juan Arturo Gonzalez_

_Rachel Ann Hayes_

_Brian James Kirkpatrick_

_**Sandoval Eric Manson**_

_Joseph Tyler Moore_

_Debra Jane Olsen_

_Antonio Luis Perez_

_**Nicholas Christopher St. North**_

_Justin David Sample_

_**Anna Katarina Toothey**_

_Jessica Angelica Towne_

_Kara Elizabeth Trent_

_Kayla Faith Trent_

_Sarah Marie Unger_

_Benjamin James Vance_

_Joyce Marie Williams_

_**Philip Joseph Yetz**_

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_**All persons listed above are fictitious and do not reflect on any actual persons. Any likeness or resemblance to any person, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.**_


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